Bond Deeper Than Blood

Maybe their plan was to put me down quickly so I wouldn’t hurt anymore.

My eyes flutter closed and I think about Mercy.

As long as she’s okay, it was all worth it.

I black out with my daughter’s beautiful face the last thing on my mind.

Castilla

Thirst.

Bone-deep.

Excruciating.

I need to feed.

My eyes pop open and I try to make sense of my surroundings. A dark bedroom with silky sheets. I can scent blood. I want it—no, I need it.

The pain inside me won’t go away until I satisfy my thirst. I crawl out of the bed, wondering how I got into one of my nightgowns, and prowl toward the door.

It’s locked.

I bang and scream and try to shred it with my nails to no avail. With a furious snarl, I stalk toward the curtains. Nothing but brick is behind them.

I’m trapped.

I’m going to starve to death.

A pained howl escapes me. I need to feed. I need to feed. I’m prowling back toward the door when I notice a table. A glass of wine—no, blood sits on top. I pick it up and greedily chug it down, going as far as to lick the glass after. Once it’s gone, I throw the glass in a rage.

The door clicks open. I rush over to it, snarling, but am blocked by Laurent. When I try to move past him, he captures my wrists and shoves me against the wall.

“Move,” I roar.

“No,” he growls, licking away some blood from the corner of my lips. “You’re going to let me take care of you and get you through this.”

I hiss at him, fighting his hold. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. This was all Loey. And without her, you’d be dead.”

“I’d rather be dead!” I yell. “Now let me go!”

My body seems to burn everywhere he touches me. The thirst for him is nearly outweighing the thirst for more blood. Nearly.

“You’d rather be here. With us. Your family.” He kisses my forehead. “With Mercy.”

The anger and frustration burning through me dissipates some as I remember my daughter. She’s here. She’s safe.

But not from me.

“I’m a monster now,” I bark out. “I’ll destroy her!”

“You won’t because I won’t let you,” Laurent assures me. “You’ll settle after a good fucking and when the maid comes for dinner.”

“I need to feed,” I whine. “Please.”

Based on the way I dig my heels into his ass and rub myself against his erection, my need to fuck is just as strong.

“Fuck first, dinner later.” He grins at me. “I’ll teach you how to curb that hunger inside you. Do you trust me?”

“It hurts,” I mutter. “So bad.”

“Then let me make you feel good.”

He reaches between us, freeing his cock from his slacks. I grab at my gown, lifting it up so he can access me. With a groan, he drives deep inside of me.

I want him to consume me.

Our lips crash together and a pleased moan escapes me when my newly elongated incisors pierce his tongue. Blood floods into my mouth and I greedily drink it from his tongue. His hips piston hard, fucking me against the wall hard enough it cracks along the mortar between the bricks. I suck on his tongue, blissed out on the pleasure he’s bringing me both by his blood and his dick. He reaches between us, rolling my clit between his thumb and finger in an expert way that has me climaxing. Heat floods inside of me as he comes. He wrenches his mouth from mine, a devious smirk curling up his bloody lips.

I’m numb and weak and so incredibly satisfied at the moment, high on him.

He carries me over to the bed and then strips me of my clothes. Once he’s naked too, he flips me onto my stomach and then fucks me all over again. This time, he bites my shoulder, sucking blood from me.

This goes on for hours until I’m unable to move. Then, a human with a pulsating neck walks in, reeking of pure, delicious blood. I salivate and snarl, but Laurent easily keeps me in his hold.

“Dara, feed my lovely girl, please.”

“Of course,” Dara says, sitting on the edge of the bed and offering her arm.

“You can learn to control your urges, my love,” Laurent says, stroking my hair. “If you want to see Mercy, you must learn.”

Flashes of Mercy her entire life from the moment I saw her on the sonogram until Beck carried her unconscious body away from me filter through my mind. I nod, hating the urge to kill this maid and trusting Laurent to get me through it.

“The maids are friends. Giving and well paid for their services. We don’t hurt them,” Laurent says. “I want you to count to ten inside your head once you latch on. No matter what, no matter how hungry you may feel, I want you to let go after ten seconds.”